Family that lost sister in World Trade Center on Sept. 11 reflects on what really matters

By George Behr 
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No one could’ve correctly guessed how Wednesday, Sept. 12, 2001, would unfold in homes nationwide. “Entire country stops to focus on family and friends” was not a Vegas odd you could bet on and was not being discussed on the “Today” show.

George Behr lost a sister in the World Trade Center attack.

The events of Sept. 11, 2001, are permanently recorded in my memory as well as the day before and after. Monday was the day I called my sister Maria, something I did far too infrequently, leaving a message on her answering machine that she would never get. What made me call that day? Inspiration is the only answer.

Unfortunately, inspiration did not remind me that she was not at that number on Mondays and also did not kick my lazy butt to track down her mobile number. It’s laziness I will regret forever. After the tragedy of Tuesday, my Wednesday could probably be described by a hundred adjectives. So many emotions were experienced that day.

At the time, my family and I were myopic, my guess as any family experiencing a tragedy. Like a body in a coma, every noncritical function of our family unit was shut down. We spent time hugging, crying, laughing, remembering, but mostly just being with one another.

We also spent most of that day trying to develop a plan. We made many phone calls. “Let’s call [this person],” “How about [this organization].” Desperately, we tried to reach someone who could provide information about where Maria might be. I recall everything moving in super-slow motion. But we were working together as a family.

Ironically, it was Maria who always worked hardest to get our family to this point, though without the tragedy. Holidays were special for her because it brought us all together with the least amount of life’s baggage hanging around our necks. Vacations were something that she longed to do with family and friends.

As she looked down on us from heaven that Wednesday, I know she was glad to see us together, working together. Not the way she would’ve planned it, but the result she loved nonetheless.

As the days and weeks unfolded that fall, nearly everyone I talked to expressed having a similar Wednesday. That Tuesday, thousands of families such as mine experienced the tragedy of losing a loved one in a terrorist attack. But millions of families nationwide experienced a different kind of tragedy, with similar results: Each family slowing down and huddling to care for and protect each other.

It was arguably the most united and focused our country has ever been on circumstances that really matter and might ever be in my lifetime. I am sorry to say that 11 years later, I am too often back to where the enemy wants me: living a “Monday life.” I’m inspired, but not so much. I’m more often lazy again, distracted by every little trivial thing. Too much of my energy, passion, time and commitment is back trying to make molehills appear as mountains.

Meanwhile, my other sister’s mobile phone sits idle, at least by my number. With no Tuesday tragedy, the Wednesday opportunities to hug, cry and laugh with those close to us are too easily missed, even dismissed. Unfortunately, nearly every one who chooses to love eventually faces a Tuesday tragedy.

The choice we control is whether to live the rest of our days as Monday — semi-inspired, lazy, prone to regret — or as Wednesday: caring, attentive, no regrets. Without bold decisions daily to identify and prioritize the people important in our lives, bold decisions such as those forced by a Tuesday tragedy, the enemy that is Monday wins.

Our challenge is to get to Wednesday regardless of what happens on Tuesday. While my sister, Maria, is no longer here, I am reminded each Sept. 11 that I am here that I need to be a better family member, colleague, friend, neighbor and American. 
George Behr of Hampden Twp. had a sister killed in the World Trade Center on 9/11/2001.